Fimbulvetr

Ren

Character OTS

OTS 1
OTS 2

Björn & Lirr

Couple OTS


Open in this waking nightmare, where all dreams come true

#1



you lay there silent there before me
YOUR TEARS THEY MEAN NOTHING TO ME

Black sands crunched beneath periwinkle hooves as a specter floated along the basalts. A haunted beauty crossed the obsidian shores of Svartr, the sea spray winds casting her midnight locks in a silken array about her ghostly nape. A plume of muted cerulean threads undulated at her speckle-kissed rump, the girl seemingly born from the very grits of volcanic beach as a steely, melancholy sky rolls overhead. She emulated the atmosphere perfectly, from the painted hues upon her pelt that speak of stained ink tears and gossamer ghost coattails. In the air a heaviness lurked, a dampness that is felt and smelled, and her carriage mimics it. Long strides swept awkwardly, a clear hobble to the ground devouring gait of nimble legs, but unlike others she wears the culprit without guise. One of the girl's legs is disfigured; from afar it seems simply bent wrong, perhaps a birth defect that the femme has learned to adapt to. Upon closer inspection, the perilous nature is far more evident. A healer's magic mended some of the sinew and tendons, binding them back to the cannon bones, but the willows of her skeleton remain evident through the blackened hide. There is a stink to it, one not from infection but rot. It speaks of escape as soon as the leg could bare her weight, but the incomplete healing showcased itself in a crook when she walks, and a grinding of bone.

"Silly girl!" "Should have waited- shoulda, coulda, woulda" "Silly? Try stupid!" the whispering voices kissed into her ears. The words haunted her, echoing in the hallow space twixt her harks, bouncing off of unseen walls in a darkness that stretched for miles. "Coulda, shoulda, would..." she parroted back to her unseen company, khol lips twitching along her shadowy fangs. Maren's pupil less gaze failed to leave the direct ground before her; a pristine and virgin beach of basalt sands seemingly forgotten in the far South. She's lingered here some time. While estranged in comparison to the others, there is a lingering intelligence. She did not want to be found, although there was little motive for her escape (truly, it worsened her state rather than saved her from anything). But the ocean spray and the harsh salt air hid her rotten perfume. No one would find her here, that is, no one that was looking for her. ("Who would come looking for you?", "Your brethren are so far away...") A snort billowed from her twin nares, releasing a ghostly cloud of saturated blue. She passed through it, breaking the smoke so that it trailed along her in ethereal fingers before fading away. Her lips wrinkled upward and back, revealing the fangs that rivaled combat blade thickness at her canines, a twisted growl leaked from her maw. "Quiet." she asked of them, alabaster audits digging into the mess of her cascading mane.

Funny, that a girl so lost, so irreparably twisted, didn't like to be reminded of her loneliness. ("But you left!" "No one told you to leave.") As her blackened lids slipped over her eyes, terrorizing images of that emptiness flashed back at her - of waters so pitch the white highlights from an unseen light seemed almost dizzying, of a quiet she'd never experienced, of a fear she never knew she had. Until now. Her faintly skeletal lips twitch back into place, her visage jerking minutely to belay the sick in her head. But she skulked still, hobbling far slower than she ever has, and it riles her within. She can recall the day she lost the versatility of her leg - when Father had called to her, that deamon of coal fur and sanguine eyes. He'd slain the great white bear, her fangs had sank around flesh in a form that mimicked her true Father, but all had gone black so quickly after. Her kin abandoned her, followed the pursuit of their Father, and she was left to die on the haunted flows of a frozen shore.

Until that male saved her. Took her to the South, invited that navy and silver mare of aqua flame to heal her.

Her maw parted quickly, strings of glimmering saliva pulled taught between her fangs, before they clacked audibly shut. "You don't need them, Maren." The wolf cooed, his voice casting a tremor in the hallow space of her skull. No... she didn't... she was walking just fine. Thunder. A bright blue light flashed across the sky, illuminating the Svartr Basalts in sharp shadows. Rain followed quickly after, dumping in sheets. The girl stopped, gaze cast skyward.


"maren talking", "women within", "wolf within"


TAGGED: @[Someone]
WC: 762
MUSE: 4.5/5
OOC: Rambly but YAY MAREN

coding © soupi
manip © haraima @ dA

powerplay allowed!
be warned!
maren is highly unpredictable
Tag: @[Maren]

#2

bones



Rain drenched the world around him. Cracks of thunder illuminated his bones that seemed to glisten somehow, nearly translucent in the shades of grey that painted his backdrop. The sovereign moved with no real goal in mind, he supposed he'd find what he was seeking whenever he got there. His cyan wisps of hair that hung from his tailbone were dragged through the air with each gale of wind, a few strays hairs tugged lose and set free to the wind. Though he paid it no mind and did not so much as even flinch at the weather's thievery. Pedal bones carried him in near perfect silence. The only sound that emanated from the misfit king was the creaking and rattling of his bones. He was not a man of flesh or even breath but it did not seem to bother him in the least.

He weaved his way down the shore's edge, his "eye" occasionally focusing upon this or that. He halted for some time to poke at a fish skeleton with the front of his face. He was fascinated with the way the bones worked, the way they clicked together and yet some were so free and pliable. "Fascinating," he murmured to no one but himself. For a moment he considered raising the fallen creature, to see the skeleton in work. However something gathered his attention before he had a chance.

An unfamiliar creature made it's own way down the beach, an irregular step to their gate. Tilting his head at an unnatural angle he watched, seemingly mystified in the same way he had examined the fish. The way it moved was akin to how he had with his own unfamiliar leg and he could not help but feel drawn to the creature. Perhaps it was his own arcana singing to hers that struck him so, or perhaps it was some form of fate.

The orb that rested within the confines of the sovereign's skull gleamed even bright as it lit his way through the dismal rain. He continued at his own ambling pace, though perhaps there was a slight lift to his knees as the only tell he was on some form of mission. "Darkness sings it's tune, at one with the moon. Glisten, glimmer, glint, glow." He whispered under his breath again, though the sheets of rain drowned him out. Though as he got closer, his voice became bolder.

"Lit by the moon, brought by a monsoon. My fortune or misfortune?" Bones halted, perhaps a bit too close for comfort. His neck extended, the orb casting sharp shadows across his face as he moved his head in her direction. "Lit by the moon, brought by a monsoon." He repeated his words, whispering the chant under his breath as his bones creaked with interest.

 Maren

ooc: bones is basically just the eye emoji right now "what's this i like it" hahaha

Please note when interacting with Bones, he is not aware he is not alive.
Mild power play allowed, ie touching and entering personal space.
Tag: @[Bones]

#3



you lay there silent there before me
YOUR TEARS THEY MEAN NOTHING TO ME

Sheets of grey rain obscured the horizon, blurring the lines between steely sky and tumultuous sea. Absent orbs stared out at the expanse as her coat dampened with the wet. Where alabaster draped rosy grey peaked and where darkened slate wrapped ink replaced. Tendrils of her hair clung to her nape like insects, slugs, or eels. For a moment her mind's eye imagined others taking shelter in deep brambles of roses, seeking a place to stay away the damp, but she quite liked the sensation of the cloud tears slipping over her. Their touch was caressing and cooling, and while there was a slight throbbing sting along the rotting leg it felt cleansing. Within her arcana prickled. Strings of decaying flesh fell loose from her bones and thinned meat, speaking the silent hymn of death. "Can you feel it?" "Slithering and slipping within." "Awakened, it is awakened." "The Touch of Death." Inside her core seemed to tremble, shimmying in restraints she'd forgotten had shackled her since arriving in this forsaken place.

Invisible tendrils extended from the humming power, slipped down the nimble muscles of her leg, and the flesh that had fallen away drifted almost weightlessly back into place. Unseen to the untrained eye, the rot stitched itself back to bone, wrapped around the joint for better purchase, reinforced what remained of her extremity. Periwinkle plumes of smoke billowed from his twin nostrils as her breath heightened, drew in and out quickly, not in disbelief but excitement. "Awakened." she mimicked, lifting her leg so that the joints cracked with protest but otherwise remained firm, her own leg serving as an undead prosthetic. "Awoken." A hum shook her throat as she peered down at what had once been her curse. Despite the heat of infection pulsating through her veins, and despite the crooked nature of it at erect, there was a beginning here. She felt it in her bones.

"Bones!", "Bones!" "Bones!", the Women Within erupted into a deafening chorus, their voices echoing in the hallow between Maren's skull. Her lips drew back in a snarl, irritated by their reverie interrupting her discovery. But, what's this? A buttery light upon her. Her visage snapped to the side, coming nearly nose to 'nose' with a whispering skeleton. Again the humming arcane art within her stirred, unseen claws scratching at the animated ossein that invaded her space. How poetic... for she had invaded so many others. Expressionless she returned the stare. A silence replaced the lyrical chorus of the Vromme sovereign, as if the rain banished their voices and raided intuition. Black lids slipped once, twice over her haunting visionaries. In the rain the tear tracks along her visage seemed all too real, as if staining away the white of her mask with each passing moment. And while they spoke of an illusionary sorrow, the angles of the girl's face remained blank.

Finally her jaws cracked open, revealing the thick curved fangs hidden behind the veil of her khol lips. But the flesh was simply drawn back, not with frown nor grin, a slack jawed gap left empty. Bright blue lightening cracked behind her, momentarily blackening her ghostly image, and thunder roared in their ears in the moment following. Inside she felt her soul shake from the severity of the storm's crack but she did not flinch. Eerily still, eerily quiet she stayed beside him, lingering a fraction away from him in the close proximity. "What do wolves love, sister?" "Booooones...." the word leaked through her jaw, spoken as her peeled velveteens returned to their more natural carriage. But only a moment. Another crack of lightning, this time out at sea, and the girl stole her chance.

Like a viper she snatched forward, fangs hooking behind the skeletons scapula. Whatever occult ritual kept him sentient paled her own powers, so rather than overwhelm and assume rule Maren's slit-second decision making elected for stealing what she could. It was easier that way. She tore away, taking the bone with her with ease, and jolted away in a half rear-buck. Her rotten leg cracked and snapped, nearly spilling her the black sands below as another resonating clack of lighting and thunder spilled across the beach, but she tripped forward and remained upright. Twixt her fangs rested the sovereign's scapula, a prize to take for someone getting to close to the wolf. At her rump her water logged tail lashed back and forth, whipping at her spotted hide. Once she clacked her fangs down on the bone, her visage lowering, her eyes still glued to the stranger.


"maren talking", "women within", "wolf within"


TAGGED: @[Someone]
WC: 763
MUSE: 4.5/5
OOC: whoops

coding © soupi
manip © haraima @ dA

powerplay allowed!
be warned!
maren is highly unpredictable
Tag: @[Maren]

#4

bones



The water that came down in sheets pelted the misfit king's bones, droplets of water slithering down his ossein like a pack of ravenous snakes. He watched her, the orb a welcome light in the darkness like a lighthouse in the dark. With each crack of lightning it lit up his translucent and seemingly glowing bones in the flash of light for a moment. The hair at the end of his sparse tail hanging limply, tugged down by the onslaught of rain. Their staring contest remained for some time and the sovereign ceased his incessant babbling, instead focusing upon her as she turned her head to meet his gaze.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he cocked his head to the side as his lower jaw unhinged on one side and hung sloppily from it's place. Despite her blank expression it did not worry him, for he wore the same blank canvas on his face at all times. The only thing that ever gave his dull ossein an expression was the ever shifting shadows that angled down his face.

He did not move as she struck like a cobra, though there was a strange rattling sound as she made a connection with his bones. Whether it came from the sovereign or from the world around them was anyone's guess. The loss of his scapula would pose an issue, but it did not seem to faze him much. The bones of his shoulder yearned to be reunited, giving up almost instantly as his leg loosened from it's socket. With a small crash of bone on bone, it clattered to the ground. For a moment the orb shifted low, focusing intently on that which lay limp at his feet.

He could have use his powers to keep the leg upright, but he seemed far less concerned with his current state than perhaps he should have been. His attention shifted back to Maren and he watched as her fangs no doubt left scars upon the bone and he wondered just how it would look back upon his body. Would it still be worthy of the misfit king? There was no doubt. It would only add to the mysterious and odd aura that he exuded. "Booones," he mimicked her, scuttling forward at an unnatural gate. He stepped over his discarded leg, hobbling as best he could on three towards her. "Bones are mine. Bones am I." He did not take his "gaze" off of her as he approached, though the slightly wavering orb led one to believe he was at least being somewhat cautious during his approach.

 Maren

ooc: yikes bones don't be weird

Please note when interacting with Bones, he is not aware he is not alive.
Mild power play allowed, ie touching and entering personal space.
Tag: @[Bones]